


The Ginger Intruder

by macymacymacy



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gallavich, M/M, One Shot, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 00:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30130929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macymacymacy/pseuds/macymacymacy
Summary: For the second time, a relentless ginger wiggles his way in to Mickey's life.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 7
Kudos: 148





	The Ginger Intruder

**Author's Note:**

> A fluffy, self-indulgent story about Ian (excitedly) and Mickey (reluctantly) becoming cat dads. Wrote this as a personal writing warm-up while working on my other fic one day and posted it on tumblr but I wanted it here too! I hope you enjoy it, and I hope it makes you smile like I smiled while writing it!

The sound of clanging pots and pans filled the kitchen as Mickey splashed soapy water all over himself.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he muttered under his breath, inspecting the damp spot on the front of his shirt. They’d only been living in their new place for a couple of weeks, but the reality of being on your own, _truly_ on your own, and all of the tiny, insignificant responsibilities that came along with that had begun to grate on Mickey. He hated doing dishes. He hated folding laundry. He especially hated sweeping and vacuuming and would do almost anything to avoid it.

He grabbed the nearest dish towel, a blue and white striped one that he and Ian had swiped from one of Debbie’s moving boxes. “Why should she get all the nice towels?” Ian had asked before Mickey sneakily snatched up two of them and stuffed them in a box with their bowling pin clock and rolled up posters.

As he was wiping off his shirt, doing his best to dry himself off, he heard the front door open with a _click_ and the heavy footsteps that followed.

“Mick?” Ian called out from the entryway. He dropped his bag with a _thud!_ and made his way to the kitchen where Mickey stood, aggressively rubbing his shirt with the towel, the pots and pans still haphazardly piled in the sink.

Mickey looked up and saw Ian peering around the corner, only half of his upper body and his head visible, the rest of him hidden behind the wall.

“The fuck are you doing?” Mickey asked, setting the towel down on the counter and turning towards his husband, who wore a nervous smile.

“Don’t be mad,” Ian said, his lips pressed tightly together. Mickey raised his eyebrows, suspicious.

“What did you do?” he asked, not a single explanation for Ian’s awkward half-lean coming in to his head. He eyed his husband and noticed a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He knew that look. “Oh _god_ , what did you do?”

Suddenly, Mickey heard a small sound from behind the wall, like a baby cooing. He inhaled sharply.

“ _Ian_ …” he said, voice tense and apprehensive.

Ian grinned and stepped out from behind the wall. In his hands he held a tiny orange kitten, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. The kitten let out a “ _mew!_ ” and yawned a huge yawn, his tiny teeth showing.

“Jesus Christ, Ian,” Mickey said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the fuck?”

“Hear me out,” Ian said, one hand held in the air defensively while the other cradled the sleepy-looking kitten. “I was over at Lip and Tami’s, right? And we were working on the backyard, the deck, and when we tore out some of the boards, this little guy was underneath it. Pretty sure he was lost or abandoned or something since he was all alone. Lip said they couldn’t take him because they had their hands full with Freddie, and he suggested that I drop him off at the shelter, but I mean _look_ at him!” Ian lowered his defensive hand and gave the kitten a little scratch on his head. The kitten meowed in response and Mickey sighed.

“Ian, we don’t need a fucking cat right now. We haven’t even been here for a month and you want us to be responsible for a whole-ass living animal?” He gave his husband a disapproving look but if Ian noticed, he didn’t act like it. Instead, he continued petting the kitten, who was growing increasingly sleepy, threatening to curl up and fall asleep in Ian’s hand at any moment.

“Mickey,” he said, voice soft as if trying not to disturb the purring ball of fluff in his hand. “ _Look_ at him.” He lifted his hand slightly, thrusting it towards Mickey so he could better see the kitten.

“I’m looking,” Mickey said, rolling his eyes. “Looks like every other cat on the planet.”

“But he’s so small, Mick. Tami said he was probably still too young to be away from his mother and that we’d need to go to the pet store to get formula or something. I didn’t even know they made formula for cats.” He continued petting the kitten on the forehead with his index finger, the soft purring gradually getting louder and louder until it somehow filled the room.

“Noisy motherfucker,” Mickey said, crossing his arms. “We’re not keeping him, Ian. No fucking way.”

“Mickey!” Ian protested, his eyes wide and pleading.

“No!” Mickey snapped.

It was quiet for a moment as they stood there, staring at each other. Their eyes were locked on the other, neither of them daring to blink for fear the other would think they were conceding. After about thirty seconds, Mickey’s eyes started to burn.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, closing his eyes tightly and pressing his palms against them to quell the burning sensation. “Fine! We can keep him for _one night_ , then we take him to the shelter tomorrow, okay? First thing tomorrow.”

Ian nodded, a playful grin spreading across his lips.

“He’s still gonna need food,” he reminded Mickey, who sighed and pinched his nose again.

“Fine. But we’re only buying what he needs for tonight, okay? No extra bullshit because he’s not staying.”

Ian nodded, but the look in his eyes was still mischievous. Mickey could see the gears turning in Ian’s head. Ten years of knowing each other and Ian’s poker face had only gotten worse. Playing it cool was not in his repertoire.

“Only what he needs,” Mickey said again, pointing at Ian. Ian nodded and flashed a huge smile at his husband before lifting the kitten up to his face and giving it a kiss on the forehead. Mickey’s heart leapt a little at the soft display of affection between Ian and the kitten. He turned away, back towards the dishes, in case a smile dared to sneak its way across his lips.

The next thing Mickey knew, he was standing in an aisle at PetSmart, holding a 20 pound bag of kitten food, a fancy water dispenser, a bag of plastic balls with tiny bells inside, and a fluffy navy blue cat bed.

“Ian, what the fuck?” he grumbled as Ian’s arms remained empty, his hands full of the now very awake and very wriggly kitten. “I said only what he needed.”

“He’s like a baby, Mick. He needs food and water and entertainment and a place to sleep. These are just the essentials,” he said as he grabbed a laser pointer from one of the end cap displays and placed it on top of the cat bed.

“Essentials, my ass,” Mickey replied, adjusting his grip on the bag of food.

After perusing the store for more essential items, they made their way to the checkout, where a girl with purple pigtails and large tortoiseshell glasses rang them up.

“How old is the little guy?” she asked in a sickly sweet voice, reach out to let the kitten nuzzle her hand.

“Not sure,” Ian said, setting down a can of formula on the counter. “We found him under my brother’s deck, think he was probably abandoned.”

“Poor baby,” the girl said, making a pouty face and sticking out her lower lip. “Sounds like you were destined to find each other.”

“Looks like it,” Ian replied, shooting a smug grin in Mickey’s direction. Mickey rolled his eyes and pulled cash from his wallet.

“Alright, your total is $76.80, will that be cash or card?”

“ _Seventy-six eighty?_ ” Mickey said incredulously. “Jesus Christ.” He handed four twenties to the cashier. “What, is that formula made from caviar?”

Ian chuckled as the girl handed Mickey his change and their bags. Mickey managed a grumbled “thank you” before shuffling towards the door. Ian hung back for one second longer, letting the cashier give the kitten one more scratch on his head.

When they got home, Ian set up the water dispenser and went about figuring out how to prepare the formula.

“How much does he weigh do you think?” he shouted from the kitchen. 

Mickey was sitting on one end of the couch and the kitten was curled up on the other end. He eyed the kitten warily, and the kitten blinked at him, his eyes wide and impossibly green. He couldn’t help but notice the similarities between the kitten that sat beside him and his husband in the kitchen. This was the second time in his 27 years that a green-eyed ginger had forced his way in to Mickey’s life, unprompted and uninvited. However, the first time had actually worked out pretty well, as evident by the wedding photo that hung on the living room wall.

Maybe having a pet wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

As Mickey opened his mouth to respond to Ian’s question, the kitten got up on all fours and stretched, his tail in the air and his nose pointed towards the ceiling. When he was done, he walked unsteadily over to Mickey and stopped just before climbing on to his lap. The kitten looked up at Mickey and, as if they were communicating telepathically, tilted his head to ask for permission. Mickey swallowed hard and reached out to give the kitten an apprehensive pat on the head. Immediately, the kitten started purring. _Shit_. He was a cute little fucker. Mickey couldn’t and wouldn’t deny that fact.

“Uh,” Mickey stuttered as the kitten took his pets as a cue to climb into his lap. He crawled up on Mickey and curled up on the middle of his thigh. He could barely feel the weight of the kitten on his leg, he was so tiny. “A pound, maybe less?”

Ian turned around and saw them on the couch, the kitten perched on Mickey’s leg, looking up at him as if to ask for more forehead scratches. Mickey didn’t notice Ian staring at him and reached down again to run a finger along the kitten’s ears.

“Mick,” Ian said, and Mickey’s eyes shot towards his husband. He was caught in the act, and he knew it. He couldn’t deny it; the evidence was right in front of them. He sighed, resigned to the intoxicating and calming effects of the purring ball of fluff on his lap.

“What?” he snapped, but his tone held no animosity or anger, only frustration over having been caught in a soft moment with the kitten by his even-softer husband.

“You like him,” Ian teased, setting down the formula canister and making his way to the living room.

Mickey rolled his eyes.

“He’s alright,” he said. “Don’t know what it is with you gingers and your obsession with forcing your way in to my life.”

Ian snorted.

“I did not force my way in to your life,” he said, sounding only mildly offended.

“Really? Then what do you call showing up at my house uninvited with a fucking tire iron, ready to bash my brains out?”

“You stole a gun, Mickey! What was I supposed to–you know what? I’m not having this conversation with you right now. That’s ancient history. This is the present. And in the present, you’re cuddling with a tiny kitten that’s basically the cat version of me.” Ian wiggled his eyebrows, eliciting an eye roll from his husband.

“We’re not cuddling,” he said, continuing to pet the kitten.

“Looks like it to me,” Ian replied, smirking.

“Oh fuck off,” he said, trying his best to hide his smile.

“Admit it, Mick. You like him.”

Mickey thought about it for a second. There wasn’t really a reason for him to keep up the charade, other than pissing off Ian, which he did enjoy more than he probably should.

“I said he’s alright.”

Ian _mmm-hmm’d_ knowingly and leaned over to scoop the kitten off of Mickey’s lap. He held him in the air in front of his face, the kitten letting out a tiny “ _mew!_ ” in protest.

“What do you say, little guy? You wanna stick around for a bit? Let your new dad adapt to the idea of parenthood?” Ian pressed his nose against the kittens and nuzzled their faces together.

“Fucking _parenthood?_ ” Mickey sneered. “Jesus, Ian. It’s a cat.”

“And we’re cat dads now,” he said with a smug smile. He scooped up the kitten and brought him in to the kitchen to prepare his food.

As Mickey sat on the couch, watching Ian set the kitten down on the counter and shake up the little bottle of formula, he smiled softly, admiring the way Ian handled the little guy so carefully. He sighed. _Cat dads._ He supposed there were worse things in the world to be.

That night, after they went to bed, they heard the kitten meowing from his bed on the floor. Ian rolled over to face Mickey.

“How much would you hate me if I brought him up on the bed with us?”

Mickey rolled his eyes.

“Ian, we’ll crush him to death in our sleep.”

“Not true!” Ian protested, getting up to scoop the kitten from the floor. He sat up in bed for a minute, holding the kitten in his hand, before placing him down gently next to Mickey.

The kitten began purring and climbed up on the pillow, curling up right at the top of Mickey’s head. Mickey pressed his lips together tightly, trying to force down the smile that threatened to escape.

“Just admit it. You love him.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. The kitten continued purring, curled up in a ball like a cinnamon roll, sitting on top of a piece of his hair that had flopped across the pillow when he laid down. He was essentially trapped there, knowing that if he sat up abruptly the kitten would go flying in to the headboard. He laid there, completely still, the vibrations of the kitten’s purrs loud in his ears.

“He’s alright,” Mickey said for the third time, but this time he smiled as he said it. His resolve was weakening, sandwiched between the two ginger intruders in the bed, though he wasn’t complaining. 

Ian reached over and rubbed Mickey’s arm, stopping near the top to squeeze his shoulder.

“I think you’re going to be a great dad,” he said, and Mickey snorted. Ian laughed and before they knew it, they were giggling in bed together like a couple of teenagers.

They fell asleep like that, facing each other, smiling, the kitten curled up on Mickey’s pillow. His soft purrs lulled them in to unconsciousness, until all three of them were sleeping peacefully. Every once in a while, Mickey would wake up to the sensation of the kitten’s claws against his scalp as he stretched and readjusted. When he did, his eyes immediately flitted to his sleeping husband, who was somehow still smiling, ever so slightly.

Mickey reached up, gave the kitten a tiny pat, then closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr: thisaintmacys-bitch.tumblr.com <3
> 
> All my love,  
> Macy


End file.
